Academic Debris
by Kakyd
Summary: Series of one shots and drabbles set at Star Fleet Academy. Mostly Kirk/McCoy friendship.
1. Xenolinguistics

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Would very much like too. :o)

**Xenolinguistics**

Nyota Uhura briefly entertained the very appealing idea of knocking the annoying cadet, currently slouched against a desk in front of her, right on to his pompous ass. While the action would most likely provide immediate satisfaction, in the long run she doubted it would do any good. And it was the long run she was ultimately concerned with.

"Even _if_ the other officers of this club agreed to this idiocy, which they _won't_, how do you plan to get the approval of the Academy?"

Her eyebrow rose of its own accord as she crossed her arms.

Cadet Kirk's smirk grew even more obnoxious. She hadn't been sure that was possible.

"Simple; I plan to express our desire to further the Federation's policy of peaceful dealings with societies that conduct business within Federation Space. That sounds sufficiently official, doesn't it?"

She stared.

"By sending a group of cadets on a _vacation_ to a planet _known_ for their suspect dealings?"

"Not cadets, Uhura. We would go as ambassadors working to further 'the cause'. And if said _ambassadors_ happened upon a bar or two whilst on planet…" he shrugged.

"Or a slave market or two." She hissed. "I hope you don't think I'm oblivious to what you're really after. What other reason would the cadet most notorious on campus for _failing to keep it in his_ _pants_ want to visit Orion?"

The smirk faltered slightly.

"You know, I don't think that deserves the emphasis you're giving it." He replied blandly. His own arms crossed at the accusation and he glanced at the windows and then back at her. The smirk had softened somewhat.

"Look, all I'm saying is that this here linguistics club is supposed to help us _improve_ our skills, right? So why not visit a planet where we can get practice? Future generations will need to be fluent in Orion Prime if we hope to ever truly bring the society into the Federation. Surely the Academy can see the wisdom in that."

Unbelievable. She was going need a shovel to find her way out of that load of crap.

"Surely _you_ can see the wisdom of Starfleet denying the request of an _academic club_ to visit a restricted society on a diplomatic mission which is in fact, acting as a very shoddy front for a hedonistic vacation. A diplomatic mission, I might add, that none of us are qualified for."

This last echoed through the otherwise empty language lab.

Some of what she said seemed to have sunk into Kirk's thick skull. The smile was gone, but it was replaced with a look of thoughtfulness and not the resign she had expected.

"You know what? I do believe you're right. More research is definitely needed."

Kirk circled her and headed for the door.

"Your roommate is from Orion, isn't she?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Why?" She suddenly had a sinking feeling as she tracked his progress to the door.

"What was her name again…Gabby, Grace, Gina?" He turned to question, now moving backwards towards the hall.

"Gaila." She corrected automatically. Crap.

"Gaila. That's right. I should go ask her about the proper customs for diplomatic envoys to the planet. You know, get the information right from the source as it were."

Another smirk, and then Kirk spun shortly on his heel and stepped into the hallway and out of sight.

Nyota ran for the doorway, high ponytail bouncing behind her.

"Kirk, don't you dare. Kirk!"

She slid into an already empty hallway. Spun around and sprinted down to the next corridor. A couple of cadets huddling near the exit looked up startled as she bolted around the corner.

Kirk was already gone.

"Well…shit."

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AN: Thanks to everyone who alerted/made a favorite/reviewed my other stories. I wasn't sure about posting them, but it's nice to see that some people actually liked them. :o)

Also, thanks to my womb buddy for checking this over.


	2. Cognac

**Cognac**

It was 01:00 hours on a Thursday morning and Leonard McCoy was officially willing to concede that this may not have been his best idea. Probably didn't even rank up there with the _good_ ones. He was sitting on the floor of the small bathroom in his dorm room, making sure Jim didn't choke on his own vomit.

His original intention had been to introduce the young cadet to the finer points of liquor, and possibly inspire an appreciation for something other than Bud Classic and horrible mixed drinks. His efforts had blown up in his face and consequently, all over the bathroom rug in a rather spectacular fashion.

The rug was now lying in a sad heap on the floor of the tub McCoy was currently sitting against and a folded towel had taken its place of honor in front of the toilet.

Jim was sprawled with one arm flung across the bowl of the toilet, his head propped up against it and the rest of his body cramped between the sink and tub.

It had been an impressive 4 minutes since the last time he'd managed to bring anything up. He'd been mumbling incoherently for the better part of the hour that they'd been occupying their current positions, but had finally given it up in favor of dozing in between fits of nausea and having sips of water forced into him.

The problem with these kids, McCoy had decided, was their inability to take the time to enjoy a good drink. Proper alcohol deserved to be relished, not chugged. Then again, most of them wouldn't know decent alcohol if someone hit them over the head with it. Unfortunately, that was probably the only way they'd ever come into contact with one and wasn't that a damn shame. Asking one of them to appreciate the effort and talent it took to blend a good brandy was pretty much out of the question.

It was getting harder and harder to find the good stuff all the time.

The advent of the first reliable replicator, along with the general laziness of the human species had made distilleries obsolete and with the exception of a hardy few, almost non-existent. Those that remained were so carefully regulated and controlled, that actually being able to afford the real stuff had become the largest stumbling block for the average liquor connoisseur.

Most had turned to the cheaper brands imported by the Saurians and Acamarians, but a number of people had started mini distilleries in their basements and local hideaways and produced small batches of liquor. Some of this stock had made its way onto the black market sporting labels taken from the ancient brands; occasionally a legitimate bottle or two would turn up as well, but only a true fool would pay the going prices. It was one of these black-market labels they had been drinking this evening.

The particular bottle that they'd…scratch that…_he'd_ been enjoying was a rather old bottle of Cognac of questionable provenance that had been distilled in the traditional and ancient process using pot stills hidden deeply somewhere within the European Alliance; he'd gotten it off another irresponsible drunk in a rather unevenly matched card game.

Jim had been tossing it back like it was the beer and watered down drinks he normally got at the local bars; drinks made with bottom shelf liquors already cut with water, served to cadets who didn't know any better. Or didn't care; he wasn't sure which was worse.

And now a good portion of a bottle of Martell V.S. was making its way through the Academy's sewer system.

A damned waste, if you asked him.

Jim groaned and brought up another mouthful of bile. McCoy doubted anything coming up was liquor at this point. Shifting, he grabbed the disposable cup from the sink and ran some more water into the bottom.

A soft groan of his own escaped his lips as he stood up. Damn it, but he was at a point in his life where he thought he wouldn't be spending this much time on bathroom floors.

"Jim, you awake?" he gave the young man's shoulders a quick shake.

"No...I think I may be dying. That's probably not a good thing, right?" he mumbled the soft reply into his arm.

And coherence was back in the building. Finally. McCoy shoved the water into Jim's hand and held on until he was sure it wouldn't end up back on the floor. Then he hoisted the younger man onto his feet and steered him back to the bunks in the main room.

Rescuing the cup of water from Jim's grasp, he placed it on the side table and dumped the cadet onto the nearest bed. The room's regulation garbage bin was placed next to his head and finally McCoy dropped onto the bunk opposite Jim's.

"Jim," he said as he pounded his pillow back into shape "you don't get to drink the expensive stuff anymore." He finally settled down. "Computer, lights off."

The lights dimmed accordingly.

"That's fine, I'm sticking to water from now on anyway." Came the grunted response.

Somehow McCoy seriously doubted it.

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AN: Thanks for reading!


	3. Rescued

**Rescued**

James Kirk was bored. Bored beyond imagination. Monumentally and tragically bored…

"I got the point, Jim. In fact I got it about a half hour ago when you first dragged your sorry self down here." McCoy sighed and looked up from the desk where half a dozen PADDs containing medical journals were scattered around a personal data consol. He had been trying to conduct research for a paper on comparative biological reactions in humanoids to the Kamaraazite flu vaccine.

It was proving increasingly difficult to do so with Kirk wandering around his dorm room playing with his possessions and whining about having nothing to do.

"Have ya thought about, I dunno, studying perhaps? That is what you're here for, you know."

"Naw, it's too nice out for that."

McCoy glanced past where Jim was now perched on his bunk at the window. It was a bright sunny day, with the occasional puff of cloud floating past the window. He could see the edge of the Golden Gate gleaming in the distance and briefly thought about heading down to the shore.

Unfortunately this paper was due in a week and thanks to the waste of the previous weekend's study time, courtesy of said currently bored cadet, he was now scrambling to get the work done. It didn't help that all of his professors had decided to load them down with work the entire week and now he was trying to play catch up.

"You're not wrong about that. So why don't you get the hell outta here and go do something."

"No fair to leave you cooped up in here on a day like this. Why don't we go down to the park? We could rent a couple of scooters." He was back to pacing the small room, here and there picking up an object and fiddling with it.

Orion Park was located on the grounds of Star Fleet Academy and on a day such as today, would most likely be filled with cadets enjoying the sun. There was an amusement center located at one end of the park, and it was possible to rent scooters and small boats for use on the various ponds sprinkled around the property.

It sounded like a damn good idea. Too bad he wasn't leaving his room until he had a solid start on this paper.

"Look Jim, as much as I want to, some of us actually have to study. Not all us can just glance at a book and declare ourselves experts on the subject."

McCoy aimed a mild glare at the cadet as he drifted back towards the bed. The younger man had grabbed a spare anabolic protoplaser from McCoy's desk on his way past and was tossing it idly from hand to hand.

He now stopped mid stride and turned to appeal to McCoy's sympathetic side.

"C'mon Bones. All you've done this week is study. Don't you think it's time for a break?"

The hope filled look Jim sent his way was met with a blank stare. The younger man ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Anyway, I can't go back to my room right now. Hannigan brought the beast over again, and it'll be hours before it'll be safe enough to go back. Actually I think she's spending the night."

McCoy grimaced. Somehow Jim's roommate had managed to find the most obnoxious girl in town and in a drunken stupor brought her back to their room a couple of months prior. The following morning, Hannigan had been quick to realize his mistake but unfortunately he had also managed to find the most insane girl around. His several attempts to tell her that he wasn't interested anymore had been completely ignored and she insisted on making regular weekend visits.

There were several pools going as to when the kid would grow a set and end it for good. McCoy himself had money on it lasting a least a year. He knew needy and crazy when he saw it.

Jim had been making it a habit to crash on McCoy's floor on the occasional evenings she would spend the night. His own roommate was somewhat sympathetic to the whole situation and wouldn't bitch…much. He had put money on Hannigan being single again within the month; a somewhat unrealistic hope that the doctor figured was based more on a desire to not have a third room mate than anything actually approaching reality.

McCoy had seen his fair share of determined women and this one practically defined the word.

"I'll let Topher know you'll be crashing here tonight." Jim nodded his thanks and resumed tossing the medical device in the air.

"While I do sympathize with your plight, you do remember why I'm still working on this paper instead of enjoying the weekend, don't you?"

An almost believable expression of confusion settled on Jim's face. Almost.

"You know, can't say as I do. Although, I do think you should really be a little more responsible with your time, Bones. If you ever hope to make Chief Medical Officer, you're probably gonna want to work on that."

McCoy grabbed one of the PADDs from his desk and chucked it in Jim's direction. The younger man ducked and scrambled out of throwing range, smirking. The PADD landed unharmed on the pillow.

"Okay, okay. Point taken." Jim paused as he looked out the window again then changed tactics.

"There's a bonfire at The Bridge tonight. Think you could tear yourself away from this exciting endeavor for some actual fun at some point? It really is too nice to be stuck inside."

McCoy sighed and considered. If he really worked at it, he could probably get a good chunk of work done in the next couple of hours. And the thought of sitting around with people in an environment other than a study group sounded really good. Throw in some cold beer and it sounded even better.

Lately he'd been starting to feel like an old man in comparison to the hordes of youngsters running around campus. He spent more time studying than many of the new recruits and aside from excursions to the local bars with Jim, he didn't do much socializing.

Just one of the drawbacks to starting a new career later in life he supposed.

And damn it, but Jim had done it again. If he continued to be distracted this consistently, he'd be lucky to graduate.

"I suppose I could manage it, BUT" it was a warning glare that he shot at the other man this time, " you gotta get out now so I can work on this for the next couple of hours. And I'm warning you, if this doesn't get done in time, you're writing it for me. It ought to be easy for ya seeing as how you know everything."

A smile spread over Jim's face. "Excellent. I'll come back and get you in a couple of hours." He tossed the protoplaser back to McCoy as he headed for the door. "And I'll even bring the booze."

McCoy snorted. "Not if it's that Bud Classic crap you love so much, you won't."

The only response he got was an extended single digit that followed its owner out the door.

* * * * *

Later that evening and several bottles of Arcanis lager later, McCoy was sitting a short distance from the bonfire itself and staring up at the stars. The waves in the bay were lapping gently against the shore and reflected the leaping flames emanating from behind him. A light breeze was coming up off the water from farther down the shore and carried with it the sound of chatter and bursts of laughter from the main group. The clear skies of the afternoon had carried over to the evening and the stars were winking against an indigo background. Scattered up and down the shore were couples and small groups comprised of cadets and locals that had been invited to join them as they wandered by the festivities.

He sensed a presence to his right and looked up to see Jim with an easy grin stretched across his face and another lager extended towards him.

The doctor returned the smile and accepted the beer while Jim settled Indian style on the sand next to him and focused his gaze skyward.

Taking a pull from the bottle, McCoy decided that some things were more important than research papers and having a good friend for the first time since leaving Georgia was certainly one of them.

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AN: Another Kirk/McCoy friendship fic. These guys just keep popping up. :o)

Thanks to my sis for going over this for me. As always, I tinkered afterwards and all mistakes are my own. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!


	4. Adrift

**Adrift**

The sky had taken a decidedly dark turn over the course of the last twenty minutes and Leonard McCoy was now anxiously watching the shore that lay to the right of the small Catamaran he and Kirk were currently aboard. He vaguely recalled hearing something about afternoon thunderstorms, but even in the 23rd century, weather forecasters were notorious for their inaccuracy and there had been nothing but blue skies all day. He hadn't thought anything of the few clouds that had started to drift by an hour back and instead enjoyed the brief respite from the sun; even with his darker coloring, he was pretty sure he had managed to get sun burned. He could feel the skin over his nose and cheeks starting tighten and tingle.

Now however, the clouds were dominating the skyline and the wind had started to pick up.

"Hey Jim, I think we oughta start heading to shore. We're gonna get swamped if that storm they've been predicting actually makes an appearance."

Jim Kirk glanced skyward and frowned thoughtfully. The fairer of the two men, his nose and cheeks had started to turn pink early in the day and were now heading straight for a solid red. Turning back to face McCoy he shrugged.

"We can probably turn around now and head back to the launch. We should be able to make it in time with this wind." A stronger gust buffeted the boat as he spoke and he shifted his weight carefully while adjusting the sail.

"I dunno, I think we ought to just head for shore and the nearest shelter."

"Not up for the challenge?" Jim's smirk was particularly annoying.

"Not up for the potential dunking if we don't make it in time. And while I can clearly see that you don't mind having to swim for it, I'd rather not."

"Oh come on Bones, where's your sense of adventure? What's more exciting than two guys up against the perils of nature?"

McCoy could think of several things. One of which was his armchair with a decent view of the bay and the half full bottle of brandy that he really ought to finish before the next scheduled room inspections. He shifted his grip on the rudder and turned to examine the cloud banks coming in from the ocean.

"I'm guessing I left it nice and dry back on the launch and I'd like to go rejoin it now. So if you don't mind, I think we should get going."

"Fine, be that way." Despite his words, Jim still looked amused and moved to swing the sail around.

The small boat began to bounce and dip as the waves picked up along with the wind. McCoy was beginning to wonder if they'd even make it to land before the sky opened up. He thought it rather fortunate that they had steered back towards shore a couple of hours previously. Open water was not the place to be when storms hit.

He held onto the rudder as Jim handled the sails and the small boat swung away from their prior path and headed into the bay and towards a direct meeting with the coastline. With the sails full once again, the Catamaran moved at a good clip. McCoy reclaimed his space on the platform and commenced lounging.

Satisfied with their current progress, Jim tossed a grin over his shoulder.

"So, you gonna call that girl back? What was her name…Donna?"

"Dara, and no I don't think so."

"Why not? And don't say it's because you're too busy." A look of disapproval replaced the grin.

"And if it's the truth?"

Jim turned to face him more fully and pointed at him.

"It's been three months since you've gone out with anyone Bones. Are you trying to become a recluse?"

The doctor glared at the younger man.

"Not everyone needs to jump in bed with every willing creature that happens to scuttle by, you know. I have more important things to do than try on the whole female population of San Francisco. Technically, so have you."

"Have you ever heard of time manageme…whoa." Jim's reply was cut off by a violent gust of wind that knocked both men off balance and left them scrambling for a hand hold. The now loose sail flapped wildly and the boom swung around catching Jim's shoulder and pitching him forward towards the mast. The craft dipped and the nose of the boat dipped beneath the water.

"Son of a…Jim! Grab the line."

McCoy pulled himself up and reclaimed his hold on the rudder. He leaned his weight as far away from the front as he could manage without toppling backwards into the surf in an effort to steady the boat. Jim managed to get to his knees and snatched up the line again. He slowly let the sails out, watching as they filled and then secured the line to the mast. The Catamaran came level again and McCoy let go of the breath he was holding.

Overhead storm clouds swept past and thunder rolled in the distance.

"See Bones? Exciting, isn't it. Just can't get this much adventure on land." Jim exclaimed settling on his haunches and carefully rolling his shoulder.

"Adventure my ass. I suppose you could say so if you consider near death experiences exciting, which I don't." McCoy nodded at the shore behind Jim.

"How long until we land do ya think?"

The blond glanced over his shoulder and considered. "Probably…15 mins? Give or take a couple." He looked back at McCoy who was still latched on to the rudder.

"Want me to take over for a bit?"

The older man considered the sails and boom for a moment. The whole assembly didn't look as though it was likely to go anywhere but he knew better.

"I think I'm good right here. How is your shoulder?" He gestured at the area Jim was currently massaging.

"I'll live. I don't think you're going to have to put me down or anything. "

"Don't go giving me any ideas, kid." He grunted.

Jim chuckled and glanced at the storm front above McCoy's head. A fork of lightning lit the sky and was followed quickly by a rumble of thunder.

"It'd be nice if the rain held out for another ten minutes." He remarked and settled on the platform flooring.

"And speaking of holding out, I think you should call Dana when we get back. Invite her out for a drink. You need to get out more often."

'It's _Dara, _Jim. Christ how do you even finish your dates if you can't retain a name for five minutes?"

"Most likely because it doesn't matter. Talking isn't ever on the agenda for long." He shrugged and waggled his eyebrow suggestively.

McCoy was starting to suspect smug was Jim's default setting.

A large drop of rain smacked against the hull. That was the only warning they got. The next moment, the skies opened up and it was all they could do to see a foot in front of them.

"God damn it. This is last time I let you talk me into one of your grand ideas. This kinda shit only happens with you." McCoy shouted towards the now obscured area where he had last seen Kirk.

He strained to see anything around them through the whipping wind and sheets of rain. For a panicked moment he considered the possibility that they would get turned around and head back to sea. He was working himself up into a fit when the rain lessened enough to see that they had maintained course and were close enough to shore to pull the boat up and anchor it.

Sighing in relief he pushed the rudder hard to the right. The boat slid to the left and Jim hopped off the front and dragged it onto the sandy beach. McCoy followed suit, hauling the rear of the boat. They pulled it as far ashore as they could without damaging the rudder and ran for the cover of a rock outcropping a few yards up the beach.

Jim was laughing as they reached cover and turned to a panting McCoy.

"See! I told you sailing was exciting." He exclaimed clapping the other man on the shoulder.

"I think you mentioned it once or twice, yeah." He ran his hands through his hair, flicking water off the dark strands.

"I just can't understand how a farm boy from Iowa knows anything about boats." He leaned against the rock and slid down to rest his arms on his knees and gaze out at the stormy view in front of him. It was actually fascinating to watch; much more entertaining than actually being IN it.

"One of those rare family vacations we went on with mom. Before she got re-assigned off planet." Jim plopped down next to him on the sand and stretched his legs out.

The doctor noticed the wistful tone of Jim's voice and glanced over at him. His friend didn't seem upset though, so McCoy turned back to the waves.

He thought once more about his armchair and brandy and then added the petite red head that had passed him her number to the image. It seemed slightly less lonely.

"You know, on second thought, I think I will call Dara when we get back." He said.

Jim looked slightly surprised at the abrupt change of subject. He plucked a twig from the ground next to him and started peeling the bark off absently. In front of their shelter, the wind gusted and peppered them with spray from the ocean.

"Really? What changed your mind?" He dragged the twig through the sand in random patterns, but kept his eyes on the mostly obscured shore.

McCoy shrugged. "It's like you said; it's been three months. And what's one date anyway. I guess it won't kill me."

Jim smiled and threw his arm around McCoy's shoulder. "Well don't go getting overly excited now, but glad to hear it. " He patted the older man's shoulder and then let go.

They sat quietly, listening to the howling wind and watching the waves batter the shore and the boat bobbing in the shallow water. With his decision made and his good friend at his side, McCoy felt more at peace than he had in while. It was amazing to him how this kid whom he had nothing in common with had become his best friend at the Academy. He was brash, young and unpredictable, but also smart, brave and loyal. And despite the occasional adventures he got himself dragged into, it had been a long time since he had had this much fun.

Smiling he settled in and figured he may as well just sit back and enjoy the ride.

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AN: These drabbles keep getting longer and I'm not sure they qualify as such anymore. :o) I tried to focus more on showing instead of telling in this one. I'd appreciate any thoughts on whether I actually succeeded. The chapter hasn't been betaed. All mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading!


	5. Home

**Home**

The snow drifted gently downward from cottony clouds against a background of proud evergreens; every so often swirling and dancing as a breeze sucked them along its path. Most of the ground was covered with the fluffy stuff however here and there a patch of pine needles lay bare underneath the densest of trees. The soft glow of lamplight lit a patch of snow, illuminating the flakes as they moved through the light. The shifting clouds parted for a brief moment allowing a view of the starry sky and then closed ranks again.

Not far off to the left, yellow cubes of light illuminated the windows of a small cottage visible through the branches. A small wreath hung on the front door, the red ribbon that wrapped around it twitching with the breeze.

The soft sound of harps and bells piped in through hidden speakers played quietly in the background.

James Kirk sipped his hot cocoa, leaned back against the wall and surveyed the scene in front of him. Star Fleet had done a nice job of displaying the first stage of their most recent technological research and development project; a holographic sensory immersion program. Although its intended use would eventually be geared towards training exercises and battle simulations, this evening it was displaying a more rustic scene for the many wallets that were currently attending the Academy's yearly gala.

Jim had heard some pretty impressive stats regarding the capabilities of the program and hoped that the battle simulations would be operational before he graduated. One of the few unexpected perks of attending the Academy was access to certain otherwise classified technologies and this one in particular had peaked his interest. Once he had heard about the alpha version of the program going live, he had done some research into it and hoped that he would be invited to test it out.

The rustle of silk and the clicking of heels on the tiled floor interrupted his daydreaming and clued him in to his date's arrival.

He turned and smirked in appreciation at her low cut dress, its silver hue complimenting the green flesh tone and the curls of red hair that flowed down her back. She held a flute of champagne in each hand.

Gaila smiled knowingly at his expression and cocked a hip at him. "See something you like?"

"Not all of it." The smirk grew wider and Gaila chuckled.

"And you won't for a while yet, mister; at least not while we're on official Academy business."

Several cadets had been invited to represent the student body at the gala; Kirk had managed to wrangle an invitation through his position as a student instructor in the advanced combat classes. The event was a chance to rub elbows with some of the Academy's largest benefactors and it had been strongly suggested to those invited that a sense of decorum would be expected and any behavior otherwise would result in some serious demerits.

While Kirk didn't really give much thought to the Academy's preferences, the director of the R&D company currently developing the holographic program was to be in attendance and he had managed to gain a brief audience with him. Once speaking with Kirk, the director had been impressed with his knowledge of the subject and had promised to keep him in mind when the next testing phase came up.

As fun as fooling around with the beauty would be, no way was he going to jeopardize that opportunity.

Gaila gave him a once-over, eyeing the cadet dress uniform in appreciation.

"You know Kirk, you clean up pretty well yourself."

He hoped so; he had initially planned to spend the afternoon prior to the event getting in some sailing but once Bones had caught wind of the plan, he had insisted that Jim spend a bit more time on his appearance. He was actually kind of relieved considering the people that were present at the gala, but there was no way he was telling that to the older man.

Tilting his head in thanks, he placed his now empty glass on a side table and accepted the offered flute of champagne.

Sipping her own beverage, Gaila stepped up next to him and appraised the scene.

"It's pretty tame; for a potential combat training program that is. "

Kirk shrugged. "I thought it was nice. It has a certain appeal to it."

The clouds shifted again and a beam of moonlight lit the large pines closet to them. The music had changed to a slightly melancholy piece played by a string arrangement and Kirk considered how it seemed to change the atmosphere of the forest; it suddenly seemed a bit darker.

"Is this anything like where you grew up?" the question interrupted his musing and he paused for a moment.

"Not in Iowa, no. But it reminds me of these of old Christmas cards my mom had. She would bring them out every year and hang them over the mantelpiece. Some of those cards had scenes like this."

He smothered a quick pang at the memory; every year his mother would curl up with her wine in front of the fireplace that only got used during the holidays, and reminisce about Christmas' past when his father was still alive and it was just them and his brother. He would listen for a little while until her voice got distant and sad and then he and his brother would sneak upstairs and leave her be. She never seemed to notice they had left.

Thankfully she was off planet at the moment and he wouldn't be forced to visit this year. No, this year he was going to spend it with people whom he wanted to be around; his friends. He'd never had that chance in Iowa.

"How about where you grew up? Anything like this on Orion?"

Gaila snorted. "Not quite. This…is a little too idyllic for my tastes. It seems just a little too perfect; like you know something dark is hiding in there. "

She took another sip and shrugged.

"Maybe it's just me, but if something seems too good to be true, I've found that it usually is. That's what I like about Star Fleet; it's the best thing that's happened to me, but I know I earned it. If I had to leave the Academy tomorrow, I'd still have all my memories of this school, the people and the work I put in to get here. Nothing at all like this place; just a flip of a switch and it all vanishes."

Kirk gazed down at her for a moment and then smiled briefly. "I know exactly what you mean."

Gaila tilted her head up to meet his eyes and returned the smile. The light from the lamp made her skin glow. Suddenly she grabbed his glass, placed it with hers on the side table and started towards the trees, pulling him in her wake.

"But that doesn't mean we shouldn't explore while it's still here. "She threw over her shoulder at him and skipped ahead into the trees.

As he followed her into the forest and past the cottage, it occurred to him that he and Gaila had a lot more in common than he had thought.

The majority of the people in Star Fleet had joined up because they were looking for something; a chance to see space, visit distant planets, see new life forms and for some it was to merely get off the planet. For Kirk, it was a combination of all of those.

But he discovered over time, that in his quest to get into space, he had found something he hadn't known he was looking for; a home. And that alone made everything worth it.

* * *

AN: I have to admit I was a bit surprised that this idea came out as Jim and Gaila, but I guess I can't write only about Jim and Bones. :o) Per usual, this fic has not been betaed and feel free to leave feedback. Thanks for reading!


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